Page 142 of Interion

“What?” he asked, incredulous. His thoughts seemed to jump from one place to another, as if he were running through the possibilities, until he whispered, “The protection barrier...”

I didn’t know how to tell him everything without making Serguei seem like a villain. Because he really had seemed like one at that moment. But if I didn’t tell Zion, he’d be furious with me.

“He implied he would torture Kiara mentally if I didn’t open the door and let him in.” Zion rubbed his hands over his face, looking disgusted and tired. I didn’t wait for his next reaction, just continued: “He wanted to know about the sonar. Said he couldn’t just take the information—that I had to give it to him. So he threatened me. That part was fine, but then he threatened Kiara. Zion, I couldn’t let him torture Kiara.”

He laughed, but it was a disbelieving laugh.

“‘That part was fine’?” His eyes locked on me, unyielding. The laughter was gone and his expression was serious again. Actually, furious would be more accurate. “‘That part was fine,’ Kyller?”

I stayed silent, just watching as he stared back at me. He rolled his eyes, looking even more furious and increasingly tired. Zion, who had leaned over the table during his last outburst, sat back in his chair with a huff.

“What? You told him everything the sonar said?”

“Yes.” I paused, thinking about how to say this without him exploding into a million pieces of rage. “He gave me some things in return.”

“What things?” he asked, jaw clenched.

“He told me about my mother—how he met her and what she meant to him,” I started there, took a deep breath, and continued. “He told me why he doesn’t want us together, and he also told me... that he’s your father.”

A knowing silence settled over us, and I thought any minute he’d accuse me of letting him talk without warning him that I already knew everything. I decided to just throw it all out there.

“And we made a blood pact.”

“You what?” he roared across the table, leaning forward. A few heads around us turned in our direction.

“Keep your voice down, general. We don’t need an audience.”

He seemed to want to say something but bit his lip and leaned back in his chair.

“What damn pact did you two make?” he asked, jaw still clenched.

“In exchange for the information, he would protect my mind for a month until I could train my mental barrier to block invaders.” I remembered the whole barrier issue—how he’d hidden everything from me. “And get this! Serguei told me anyone can build mental barriers. Very useful information you could have shared with me, but didn’t.”

Zion crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a look that would make anyone tremble, but I held my ground.

“I didn’t teach you because there was no need, since I was going to stay away and you wouldn’t know what was happening. But it seems Serguei decided to drag you into all this shit,” he ranted, raising his voice on the last sentence. I kicked him under the table when some people clearly turned to see what was going on. He stared at me in surprise, as if he’d never expected that.

“And didn’t you think that maybe that decision was mine to make? That maybe I wanted to know everything you all do? About my mother and my people. Didn’t it ever cross your mind that maybe I wanted to be part of this?”

He ran his hands over his face. This time, the fury had taken a back seat to exhaustion. It was one of the first times I really saw the weight of life in his eyes.

“Kyller,” he seemed more controlled this time, “Serguei and I agree on very few things in this life. One of them is that keeping you away from this underworld would be the best thing to do. But you figured out most of it on your own, and now it looks like he’s steering you right into this mess. So I’m going to ask you to stay away from him. I don’t want you to see him again.”

I swallowed hard, feeling desperate. Why couldn’t things just be easier? Why did everything have to be so difficult?

“I think that’s going to be a bit impossible, since the three of us have dinner scheduled for next Saturday.”

Zion sat there frozen, looking at me as if he’d never seen me before, as if I were completely reckless. Or as if life were playing some cruel joke and he was trying to end it so he could get back to serious matters.

“What do you mean, ‘the three of us’?”

“He invited us.”

“And you just accepted? Wait, did you accept for me?”

“I didn’t have a choice, and I’m only passing along the invitation. I didn’t answer for you.”

“Why didn’t you have a choice?” And there was Zion, getting angry again. This loop was making me sick.